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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29677281">red glittery cherry</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeana/pseuds/Laeana'>Laeana</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Formula 1 RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Birthday, First Kiss, First Time(s), Friendship, Getting to Know Each Other, Love at First Sight, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, Strippers &amp; Strip Clubs, male stripper</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:40:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29677281</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeana/pseuds/Laeana</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For Mick's birthday, Robert, Callum and Marcus take him to a male stripper club.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mick Schumacher/Antonio Giovinazzi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>red glittery cherry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/BearWithAHat/gifts">BearWithAHat</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>His first time. It's the first time. Here, in this place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick was really not sure of himself. He had wanted to refuse in the first place. He didn’t want to come. Robert's laughter and the amused expression of Callum and Marcus prevented him from going all the way. And here he is now, in a male striper club … he doesn't know what he's doing there but he's there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sat at a table with his friends, who shouted a little too loudly that it was his birthday today. He would have liked to hide under the table or get up and just leave the room but he held back. He had to stay here, after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took a deep breath, removing any unexpected color from his complexion, from his cheeks, smoothed the folds of the white shirt he had been forced to put on and loosened his fists, relaxing against the comfortable bench seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His friends paid for him after all. They pay for him to be here (and for themselves by the same way). He might as well enjoy the show. He tries to be rational and ignore the feeling in his stomach. He is not quite at ease. He wonders which of his friends came up with the idea of coming here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes he regrets having told them that his sexuality wasn’t that straight, they might have been a little less taxing with him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or not for that matter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, it still freed him from the conscience to admit to his comrades that he was not totally straight. There are no illusions on this point. He can be himself by their side, and that's the best feeling in the world. That showed him how much they were precious and how much he could count on them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sips his cocktail, hoping to have something a little stronger. Vodka for example. To make some of his inhibitions go away. To feel better. But he assumes he will have to be content with what he has.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But isn’t that … Mick ?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turns his head when he hears the familiar voice. A few meters further on, Max and Lance, two longtime friends, come up to him, smiles on their lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought it wasn't your thing.” Max begins, before giving him a brief hug in greeting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's not, but … it's their idea.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick shamelessly points to his group, that’s their fault after all, before returning his attention to the two newcomers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They saw each other yesterday, they celebrated his birthday with lots of people, a big party, and yet it seems to him that today they are dressed in an even more chic way than they were yesterday.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait … what are you doing here ?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cheeks of his two interlocutors turn red. He raises his eyebrows before turning to the stage where several strippers are already visible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So those were the famous lessons that made them become so friendly.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It could be that … Max and I … have developed … more or less … a crush on two strippers.” Lance admits, looking down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But they are really beautiful. And … and … accessible.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick can hardly hold back a laugh. Why does this look so much like them ? He shakes his head from side to side, he's not here to lecture them. At all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take a seat at the table ? I think it's the best view possible on the stage.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Max and Lance exchange a glance before sitting down next to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They are visited several times by men … not always very dressed … but Mick is not at ease. He has the feeling of waiting for something, something more. Around him, it almost seems that everyone is having fun except him. Which is kinda … not the idea when he’s the one having his birthday celebrated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gets a brief glimpse of those his two friends to his left fantasize about so much. By dint of hearing them scream a little too close to his ear, to pass above the music. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then the lights go out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There is a man on the scene. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Probably the most handsome man he has ever seen before. Of his whole life. He can't help but trace the curve of his body with his eyes, to detail him in every aspect, of what the spotlight lets him see.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brown hair that falls over his shoulders, a doe gaze underlined by a streak of eyeliner, pale skin, a slender figure mounted on bright red high heels. The few clothes he wears, black, don’t leave much to the imagination and he swallows when he sees him offer a knowing wink to those in the crowd.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His top, a kind of flannel shirt, a little too shiny, is sent up in the air, in a series of perfectly choreographed steps, and reveals a developed, muscular, but thin torso. He wants to run his fingers over this ivory skin, to leave marks of a contrasting red. He wants to ruin this pretty face of his.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stripteaser sits on the chair in the center of the stage, just enough time to do an impressive kickback, to lean back, in balance, lowering his hand temptingly under his remaining skirt, before getting up, the upper torso moved forward slightly this time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulls on both ends of his bottoms to reveal red underwear. His only dress with high heels. All in red, as he resumes his position on the chair, sideways, bringing one leg to his chest and leaving the other outstretched.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, a shower of glitter falls on the stage. Eyes closed, head tilted back, the man seems to appreciate these additions which only enhance him more. A rough diamond, brilliantly shining, highlighted for all to see. He opens his eyes, slightly, just enough to gauge the customers and run a hand through his long hair. An undeniable sex appeal. He is magnificent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick can't take his eyes off him. He just can’t. It's crazy, his heart has never beat so fast to his temples, in his chest. It almost seems, for a moment, that their eyes meet. He remains frozen in his seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want something else to drink ? Max and I were thinking of going to the bar.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He blinks, suddenly brought back to reality. He takes a deep breath, running a hand over his face. He could hardly believe it was real. He feels embarrassed but he cannot deny having enjoyed the show.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I … it's gonna be alright. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You see we were telling the truth about the handsome boys here.” Max teases him gently, amused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Urgh. I hate you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, you love us !” Callum adds, in the background.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Robert puts an arm around his shoulders and Marcus gives him a bright smile. He feels a little more comfortable than he was at the beginning. Although his friends are a great source of embarrassment, he wouldn't trade them for the world. He chose them and they chose him. They were always by his side when he needed them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was told there was an order for a birthday boy ?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The voice makes him turn around, with surprise. Soft, with a slight accent. A way the letters roll on his tongue. Hypnotizing, for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stripper from earlier, dressed and having around his neck a set of jewels with a ruby in the center, faces him. His long hair has been tied up in a bun with a lock sticking out and hanging down his cheek.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn't order anything …?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's a gift from the house.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s even more beautiful up close. This is the first thing that comes to mind and nothing else. He desperately needs to touch him, to feel him near him. His fingers are almost itching. He contains himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I ... can I have your name ?” he asks, uncertain of himself, but his interlocutor just smiles, satisfied, a sparkle of joy in his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Antonio. And yours, pretty boy ?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Antonio leans forward, keeping one hand against the bench seat, a perfume that reaches his nose and intoxicates him even more, to whisper in his ear :</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mick, I would love to know more about you, if you want to follow me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn't need to think. He forgets his friends behind him, who may laugh at him too much, he forgets anything else and accepts the hand extended to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They move away from the crowd until they enter a room. A lodge, he realizes. Probably Antonio's. He gave in to his impulse and let himself be drawn here. Is that even a good thing ? For a moment he forgot all the awkwardness and shyness that had run through him when he entered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Drowned in his pretty eyes …</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had never seen you before, was it your first time here ?” the other man asks, interested.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And maybe the last.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“O-Oh, you didn't like my show ?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Antonio seems disappointed, almost sad, and he feels the immediate need to reassure him about this. He doesn't understand where it came from but he can't deny it. He can’t escape it either. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course I did, you … you were beautiful. I'm just not comfortable here but you were captivating. Each of your steps, each of your gestures … I wanted you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a flexible gesture, the other man sits down on his pelvis, wrapping his arms around his neck, charming. Mick is struggling to breathe, caught between his desires and his brain that can't seem to process everything that's going on right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don't you have me now ?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The feeling is mutual. They want each other but that's not wise. It doesn't suit him to do it all right now. He wants more, he wants better for both of them. They can have so much better than that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I … I want to know more about you, Tonio. I want to know you. I don't want this to be our only moment together, I want more than that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Antonio laughs softly, simply. Happy. Before putting his lips on his. A simple gesture, but, dammit, it's been a while since he felt so alive. He's in the right place at the right time. Maybe his friends did well to offer him this stay here all in all … </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you come back for me ?” Antonio asks him, a playful smile on his lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The confession is a little too easy to pull, the words that seem to leave his lips too quickly, because that's his answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would always come back for you, to see you.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hope you liked it :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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